The Danger
by Angelbake
Summary: AU. They posed an equal threat to each other. In matters of rules, in matters of the status quo, in matters of the heart. 1xR one shot. Added: Silly Outtake
1. The Danger

Gundam Wing and its characters are the property of other big name corporate people. I'm pretty certain I'm not getting paid for this. Yep, pretty certain.

A.N. The end of the semester got really, really busy for me. I didn't mean to neglect Bull's-Eye. I'm home now, though, and found this on my parents' computer, complete. Depending on how hectic the holiday gets, what with family and all, I'll be updating Bull's-Eye, working on the Asphyxiation series, and I've got another story half done that features most of the GW characters (about thieves and prostitutes and billionaires - I really seem to like thieves). This story is weird, because it features Heero and Relena, two characters I usually couldn't care less about. But when I do visualize them in a story, this is how. There's no real plot to it, just a look into a twisted relationship.

OH! A few people have written me, and reviewed, and I just wanted to say thanks. I'm not the best when it comes to reviewing or responding, but I'll try to get back to you people. Just don't hate me if I don't. 'Cause I might not.

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The Danger

I can feel his presence beside me. He's breathing evenly, but not with sleep. Maybe he's thinking. If silence is the sign of a busy, thoughtful mind, then Heero Yuy may very well be the scholarly savior of the world. I don't even hold my breath this time in hopes of post-coital sentiments. Intimacy is all in the grunting act for Heero. According to schedule, Heero's body shifts and I feel the bed rock as he rolls to a sitting position. The bed bounces as he gets up and proceeds to dress. All without a single word to me.

I sigh and get up to do the same. It shouldn't surprise me that we've fallen into this ritual. It shouldn't surprise me and it shouldn't hurt me.

Except it does.

And it isn't the first time that I think, _What in the world am I doing? Am I crazy?_

I've been asked that aloud by others plenty of times. Ever since I met Heero.

***

I'm sure my father must be proud whenever a co-worker, friend, or involved schoolteacher describes me as his responsible and smart daughter. The night I met Heero, I was walking home alone in the dark. Without pepper spray, cell phone, or baseball bat. Responsible Relena, they call me. My car had broken down about ten blocks away and I was too stubborn to call my father from a payphone and admit that the used car he hadn't wanted me to buy had just stopped. Pride before safety, maybe, but I lived in an okay neighborhood. Well-to-do parents with snobby kids and manicured lawns that marked the edges of their cobbled driveways. Nice cars, too.

Really nice cars. I came to a complete stop in my whole foolish late night stroll when I spied a boy missing half his body. Skinny jean-clad legs lay motionless out the car door. The missing half was under the dash of Mr. Talmont's Jaguar.

I must have gasped in reaction, because the boy suddenly slid out of the car and stood to his full height. He wasn't very tall, but he was taller than me. He had dark hair and an even darker expression that all in all, made for a very intimidating presence. I pressed one hand to my throat and the other to my mouth in a futile attempt to catch the gasp that left.

He stalked towards me, snapped wires in one clenched fist. He caught me by my upper arm and hissed, "What the hell are you doing?"

It was the dumbest question I'd ever heard a criminal ask. Not that I'd talked to many criminals. Or any, actually. I almost snorted. "What the hell are _you_ doing?"

The smirk didn't come, but it was clear in the set of his hips, the slump of his back. "I'm shopping."

"Stores are closed now. I know, I work in one." And I can't say where I got the courage. There I was, in the middle of the night, no protection, talking shit to a real live delinquent. He pushed up a sheaf of dark hair. A real live sexy delinquent. He was gorgeous. Authors would describe his cheeks as chiseled, his mouth hard, his eyes intense in a dark color I couldn't discern at night. He was perfect leading man material. And I wasn't immune.

A grunt was his rejoinder and I didn't know it then, but I would later become fluent in the many meanings of grunts and sighs.

"So why don't you leave Mr. Talmont's car alone?" He turned his back on me and went back to the car. "I'm going to wake up the neighborhood and get the cops, I swear."

He didn't laugh, but just like the smirk, it was visible in his body's pose. "You aren't going to turn me in."

"You don't know me," I snapped, irritated that he could sound so sure.

He must have been satisfied with his work, because he situated himself in the car and went to close the door. Pausing just before the slam, he looked at me. "You won't turn me in. You shouldn't have even seen me tonight. But if this gets out . . ."

If this gets out, what? He'll deny it? Hurt me? Kill me? He left the threat open, but slammed the door and revved up the car. I jumped back as he peeled out the driveway in Mr. Talmont's Jag. I had just survived my first night alone, weaponless, after meeting a good looking car thief. And of the million responsible, smart things swimming in my head, the one that kept surfacing was, _Fuck, I didn't know his name._

But I didn't mention the incident at all to my parents. Just told them about my busted car, so my dad could find it and fix it.

I come from a fairly affluent family. Nothing special, just two parents with jobs in medicine. But they gave me advantages I couldn't deny. Money that gave me nice things and genes that gave me nice looks. It gathered false friends like flies to garbage. They liked me because I could be popular if I wanted to be. I liked them because I didn't feel so alone when they were buzzing around me. Or at least, I didn't look alone. I had classes with a few of them, but we always ate together at lunch. It gave us time to be shallow, snide, and petty, make fun of other girls, scope out guys, complain. We almost always ate outside, but bad weather brought us in the day after my "close encounter."

It must have been fate. I never would have seen the car thief in the cafeteria of my school otherwise. But there he was, poking at the mysterious orange goo served and scratching his chest. It was like something out of a fucking movie. All noises stopped and I swear I could hear him chewing. The world faded away and it was just me and him. Staring at each other from across a high school cafeteria. Acknowledging a hidden mutual attraction and deciding to act upon it.

Except he wasn't even looking in my direction. He kept his face to his plate, chewing with his mouth open, and scratching at himself. God, did he have a rash or something? I became aware of my friends' questioning silence behind me. I shook my head to clear it and found a table. My friends sat down around me.

"Oh my God, Relena," one started. "I don't want to worry you or anything, but I was in the locker room today, and I overheard Perrie completely dogging you out. She was so jealous that Aaron was thinking about asking you out to the . . ."

But I wasn't really listening to her and maybe she knew, but liked to hear herself talk. Another more observant friend asked, "What is it?"

"Who's that?" I didn't point. It's tacky and rude. "Outcast boy with the messy hair and the flea infestation?"

She caught on quickly and giggled. "I don't know." But she tapped the girl next to her and asked, complete with pointing index finger. I didn't slap my palm to my forehead only because I must remain in control at all times around them. The next girl knew, though.

"Heero something. Loser extraordinaire." We stared at him, unashamed. "Does he wash? God, someone stop the scratching."

I have to admit, I agreed with the comment. The first girl asked me, "Surely his scratching isn't that entertaining, Lena, for you to stare?"

I didn't answer. I didn't have to. I was Relena. Smart, responsible Relena. Everything I did had purpose and design. Even if I didn't know it yet. 

I continued to watch Heero throughout the lunch period. When he got up to leave, I did too. My friends followed suit. I frowned, wanting to stop them, but not lose sight of Heero. "I've got to pee and I don't need anyone to pull down my panties for me, thanks."

They shot me hurt looks, but got the message. I didn't care. I walked briskly out the cafeteria and searched the hallways for my car thief. My search eventually led me outside behind the southeast wing of school. He'd disappeared.

"Why the hell are you following me?"

I whirled around to find the object of my stalking behind me, smoking nonchalantly against the wall. I was excited, thrilled, and a bit scared. I crossed my arms over my chest. "I just wanted to be sure I called security on the right boy."

Then he did smirk. I came closer. Close enough to see that he had blue eyes and a rusty smile. I wanted him to use it more often. I wanted to be the cause of it more often. Even if he was laughing at me.

"You don't want to do that."

"Oh?"

"You've got all of your pretty little life ahead of you, don't ruin it now."

"Are you threatening me? Again?" I was close enough then to do anything. Surprise him with an offensive move. Touch him. Kiss him.

He considered my accusations, shrugged. "They're not empty." He pushed himself off the wall and my bravado crumbled. I stepped back.

"Stop it, I'm not scared of you."

And he did stop, to my surprise. A negligent move flicked the ash from his cig. He took a deep drag and threw the butt away. Blowing the smoke in my face as he spoke, he warned, "Just stay away from me and keep your mouth closed."

"Stay out of my neighborhood and maybe I'll consider it," I yelled to his back. He didn't even pause in his stride.

Maybe he considered my parting words to be a challenge, because that very day he showed up at my job. I was resorting the blouses on the t-racks when a friend I worked with came up and jabbed me in the side.

"Flea boy, three o'clock," she whispered. I turn immediately towards the cash register. "The other way!"

Like it was my fault she couldn't tell time. I rolled my eyes, but turned. Heero was in my store. His eyes ran the length of the ceiling and I realized he was scoping the place. He fingered a few expensive items and considered their price. I wasted no time in getting to him.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm shopping." He didn't turn to me when he said that and the rudeness infuriated me further.

"Not in this store. Why are you here?"

"I'm not in your neighborhood, princess, so what do you care?"

"If you want me to stay away from you, then you've got to do the same."

"Stay away from myself?" And maybe I'd spent too much time with my airheaded friends, because I'd thought that was a clever return.

"I couldn't care less what you do to yourself, but I've got a few suggestions," I replied. He grunted. I bristled. "You are not going to shoplift from the place where I work."

The set of his shoulders said he was going to do what he damn well pleased. And it struck me as funny for some reason. He glanced at me.

"Get out of my store. Don't come back. Or I will call security. And I'll tell them everything I know about you Heero." If he was surprised that I knew his name, it didn't show. Damn. I was really hoping to catch him off guard with that. He shrugged.

"Whatever you say, Relena Dorlain."

I wasn't impressed either. It was easy as pie to find out my name. Hell, it was written in various ways on the stalls in both the boys and girls' bathrooms. I crossed my arms. "Get the hell out," I said it in a way that suggested he should've known that was what he was supposed to do.

And he did. He left. I should've known better. That night he was hotwiring another car just down the street I lived on. I stopped across the street, got out the car, and crossed over to him on what I hoped was light feet. His groan as I approached told me I'd failed. He slipped out the car. "Why the hell are you back?"

It seemed that would be our way to greet one another. "Funny, that's what I was going to ask you."

"A man's got to eat."

"This city has dumpsters."

He sighed. "I don't know why I didn't kick your ass the first time."

"Don't think you can now. I live all of four houses away. I scream and my daddy comes out here with his shot gun."

All he needed was a snort to complete his look. "I don't think your daddy would care enough."

And it was painful, because it was so true. I stepped back. "Fuck you, loser."

And that was the moment.

I fell completely, and unforgivably in love with Heero. He'd stood and looked at me as if he felt regret. But he didn't say anything. Just the intense look was . . . everything. And maybe my newfound emotion was all over my face in some lame fashion, because Heero's eyes widened slightly. Then he shook his head, packed away his tools of larceny and shut the car door. Without a backwards glance, he strode down the street.

The next week at school, I can't say I avoided him. I'd never eaten in the cafeteria much and he didn't eat in the courtyard, I had no classes with him, and he wasn't a jock, so we never ran into each other. He wasn't in my neighborhood at night, nor did he pop up at work anymore. And I was relieved. 

But I wasn't the same. My friends noticed, too. They began acting more polite around me, as though walking on eggshells. Snide comments lack snap, petty observations ran hollow. They didn't know what was up with me and didn't know how fix it.

"Hey, Relena, Flea Boy Loser Heero Yuy was arrested today!"

It was the first time I'd heard his last name. "What?"

"Yeah, the cops came into sixth and asked him to step outside. Like we all didn't know what was going on. The class thinks it was for car stripping and vandalism." I stared at her as if she'd just told me I'd never be able to win the prom queen crown. She faltered under my devastation. "I j-just thought that might cheer you up."

And nevermind that there was cheerleader practice, I trekked off that field with the quickness. And I didn't know where I was going, only I did. Straight to him.

I got the run around at the front desk of the police station, found out I was at the wrong precinct, and had to leave. At the right station, it took a while to find the arresting officer. He wore an irritated look when he answered the page.

"What?"

"This girl has something about the kid vandal you brought in earlier. Yuy, Heero."

"What about the little punk?"

I'd found my voice. "He's innocent."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, because he was with --"

"What the hell are you doing here?"

I almost cracked my neck whipping around to see Heero fastening a watch on his left wrist. The officer answered for me. "Your little girlfriend came here to plead for you. Damn, but I wish she had a reason to."

What? My head was aching and spinning. Heero was being let out? Had I just made a fool of myself? Heero was staring at me, his expression unreadable. Then he shrugged. "Good. I need a ride."

The ride was silent. I meekly followed his pointed directions over to the derelict part of town. Druggies, prostitutes, and beggars were the main population. This was where he lived. No wonder he stole cars. He was bred to it.

He had me stop in front of an abandoned warehouse. He looked both ways down the sidewalk before getting out.

"That's it?"

He turned back at my blurt. "What?"

"I was about to lie for you back there and this is all I get?"

He didn't apologize or thank me. He just stared with those intense eyes.

After that, I began eating my lunches in the cafeteria. In direct eyesight of Heero Yuy's table. I spent many meals just staring at him, hoping my gaze disturbed him half as much as his did me. My friends figured out my obsession and were appropriately disgusted. They told me I was crazy. Heero Yuy was an underachieving jerk. He was probably psychotic, violent, and a junkie.

And even as I agreed with them out loud, I kept staring.

***

Heero sits back on the bed to tug on his socks and I watch. His shirt is unbutton, hanging from smooth shoulders. He's so beautiful. I wish I could paint, just so I could catch his likeness on canvas. But I can't paint, I can't say the things I wish, I can't even convince him to let me stay. I can't convince him to love me.

I sigh and maybe I'd been sighing despondently all night, because he snaps as if at the end of his leash, "What now?"

"Nothing," I answer quickly. It's as if I don't want to displease him. I can't make any demands of him. I don't get to complain about how wrong this all is now. Especially when you consider the fact that it was I who seduced him. He wasn't my first, but he was damn near close and you'd think a guy could appreciate that.

Sex with Heero was rough, quick, exciting, but lacking. It was always good, I mean, I'd never known it could be like that, but it was quickly becoming painful. Because I want so much more than Heero's body now. I want more than his wet kisses and his touches and his cock. I want his heart and if that didn't sound so fucking cheesy I would demand it from him. I rub my face before the tears can even think about falling. I fumble for his carton of cancer sticks before he does and take one. 

He watches me carefully and offers a light. This isn't the first time I've bummed a cig from him, but each time he watches me as though it were a big deal. I'd gotten the bad habit from him, but didn't think about it much. If I did, it would lead to thoughts of what else have I learned from him? And that lead to, What did he learn from me? And the answer to that would be, Not a damned thing, stupid. I barely take three smokes before handing it to him. Heero doesn't like me hanging around long afterwards.

I step into my shoes, not caring that I was pressing the backs of them in with my heels. I reach into my purse to find my atomizer. I applied perfume after our trysts in hopes of disguising the musk of sex from my parents. I never put it on in Heero's room, though. Don't have the guts to do something so bold as to leave my scent in his room like that. He's still silent. I clear my throat. "So . . . same time tomorrow night?"

He grunts. I can't even get a commitment out of him to fuck me regularly. Was I even the same girl anymore? What happened to the girl who could be popular if she only wanted to? The girl with a swarm of friends? What happened to the girl that stood up to Heero Yuy without a single weapon but her mind?

But I knew. For what I thought was love, for the defense of a boy, for the few moments of physical pleasure he gave - I'd given it up. And maybe because of that internal enlightenment, I snatch the cig back from Heero. Drag deeply the toxins and hold them. Release them with no real target, though they billow in a hazy cloud in his direction. Then I leave. I go home smelling like sex and cigarettes and I don't care.

Because I'm no longer deluding myself. There are no new clothes and the emperor's an idiot and other proverbial words of wisdom. 

The next day at lunch, Heero surprises me. He approaches my table and bends over me to whisper a single word in my ear. "Tonight."

My friends recoiled when he first came near and they don't slide back towards me when he leaves. I am suddenly angry that he would dare to tread on my territory when he has clearly set his own boundaries that I respect. My face heats up and I'm sure there's a blush to match as I push myself up from my seat and pursue him. I catch him in the hallway and grab him by the shirt sleeve.

"Don't you ever do that again! Don't you dare talk to me when I'm around my friends. Who do you think you are?" And if I sound like a uppity rich kid, I don't care. I wasn't letting Heero fuck around with me anymore. If he wanted aloof and discreet, then he got late night meetings and sex at his warehouse home, but if he wanted to approach me in public, well, dammit, he got this. I don't want a crowd, though, so I let the confrontation be and storm back into the cafeteria. My friends are watching me with a mixture of pride and cautiousness. And I feel a little better.

But I'm still driving into the seedy part of town at eleven-thirty-five that night. Heero's side entrance is unlocked, though the warehouse is dark. I take the rickety metal stairs to the offices he's turned his bedrooms. He's sitting on his bed, shirtless, smoking, and watching TV. "Good show."

I look at the TV. He's watching some lame ass syndicated show.

"I mean today, at lunch."

I shrug. "You wanna fuck or what?" My attitude is still with me and I willingly embrace it. It might help tonight to ward off the hurt that comes later. He grunts, but stands to strip off his pants. I hurry to match his naked state, but I must be too slow, because that's the only reason why Heero would be helping me undress. I falter in unbuttoning and he bats my hand away, taking over the task. And though it's not under the circumstances I'd wished, I close my eyes and savor the fact that Heero is undressing me with gentle fingers.

Our lovemaking starts off slowly, but quickly escalates to the familiar frantic pace Heero always sets. Afterwards my tough girl facade is like it was never there. Heero will soon be getting up to dress and the cycle would begin again and damn it I'm trying my best not to cry, but all I can do is turn my head and hope the bastard doesn't hear me. He does, of course.

"What is it now?"

I wipe my nose and shake my head. "Not a damned thing," I whisper. "There's no tomorrow, Heero."

And he doesn't get up. He stays there beside me, looking up at the exposed ceiling. Then so softly, I barely catch it, he replies, "No, there isn't."

And I don't want to breathe, because I'm afraid I'll lose the moment. But it's not over yet.

"Was there a time when you thought there was?"

I blink, trying to figure out why he would ask such a sad thing. As if what I'd said hadn't been just as sad. I nod. "Before I met you."

He doesn't say anything to that, but I don't want to lose what we've got going. "Was there a time when you thought so?"

"I can't remember."

And that was the most insightful look into Heero Yuy's world I'd ever gotten. Not even spending nights in his crappy warehouse told me that much about the pained childhood that turned him into the cold man he was.

"Do you feel pity for me now?"

I take time considering his question. He doesn't sound like he wants pity. Not that I ever had. "I'm tired of feeling anything for you, Heero."

He sits up now. "You knew how I was the moment you caught me in your neighborhood, it's stupid to cry now."

"I was different then. I've changed."

"No you haven't," he contradicts me. As if he fucking knew me. 

"Well, something's changed." And he looks back at me, pensively. He did. He knew me better than anyone.

"When?"

"I don't know. A week ago? Since I've met you? Earlier today? Just now? What's it to you? You're just like my fucking father." I slide out the bed and retrieve my clothes. My shoes have been kicked under the bed and I get down on all four to search for them. Heero suddenly joins me, but he's too late. I've felt the smooth glass and pull it out to inspect.

My perfume. Heero has my perfume stashed under his bed. But it's not mine, really. It's a smaller bottle, probably shoplifted from somewhere. I don't know how to react. This doesn't fit in with the boy who grunts at my arrival and remains silent at my leaving. The boy who just told me he was a bastard and knew it, had always been one, and that I knew it when I met him. So I do the only thing I can do. I look him in the eye and shrug. "If I knew you liked the scent I would've applied it in here instead of outside."

For once, he doesn't return my stare. "I like the scent."

"Well, I consider that to be a compliment to my tastes, so thank you." And I am both appalled and proud of my icy tone.

He catches my arm and we lock eyes. Silently I tell him that this is the time. If he has something sweet and wonderful to make up for the sham we've been carrying on, if he has something to make this worthwhile, now is the time. _Tell me Heero. Give me something._ But I know he won't say anything. He'll maintain his silence, because that's what Heero does. And maybe he's dealing with emotions he's never dealt with before, and maybe he doesn't know how to say the things in his mind and needs help, but I couldn't give a rat's ass. I need affirmation and I had given him everything he seemed to want. 

"I need a cigarette." I don't realize I've said this out loud until the stick is proffered. I take it mutely and wait for the light. It doesn't come and I glance at Heero. He's staring at me. "Something wrong? I could use a light, Heero. And if that glare is suppose to mean something, you can just save it, 'cause I'm tired of interpreting your animal sounds and stares. I'm so fucking tired, Heero."

Heero turns to rest his back against the bed and sighs. He tosses the cigarette lighter at me and it bounces off my stomach onto my lap. "There's no tomorrow, Relena." And I love the way my name sounds on his lips, because it's so rare. "So what's the point of living today?"

I turn to sit beside him, the cig is dangling unlit from my lip. He's sitting there naked, and I'm half-clothed in my bra and skirt, but yet I feel vulnerable. Did he want to die? What would I do if he did? I lean my head on his shoulder. "I wish I could give you a reason. I wish I _was-- _part of the reason." I choke up on my honesty.

His arms wrap around me in the nicest gesture he's ever given me. He sorta rocks me in his arms. He doesn't say anything, but that's all I need. I'm the master interpreter of grunts and silence. I begin to have hope.


	2. The Lone Outtake

Just a little scene modification I couldn't get out of my head. Thought it was cute.

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****

The Danger: The Lone Outtake

Heero was in my store. His eyes ran the length of the ceiling and I realized he was scoping the place. He fingered a few expensive items and considered their price. I wasted no time in getting to him.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm shopping." He didn't turn to me when he said that and the rudeness infuriated me further.

"Not in this store. Why are you here?"

"I'm not in your neighborhood, princess, so what do you care?"

"If you want me to stay away from you, then you've got to do the same."

"Stay away from myself?" And maybe I'd spent too much time with my airheaded friends, because I'd thought that was a clever return.

"I couldn't care less what you do to yourself, but I've got a few suggestions," I replied. He grunted. I bristled. "You are not going to shoplift from the place where I work."

The set of his shoulders said he was going to do what he damn well pleased. And it struck me as funny for some reason. He glanced at me.

"Get out of my store. Don't come back. Or I will call security. And I'll tell them everything I know about you Heero." If he was surprised that I knew his name, it didn't show. Damn. I was really hoping to catch him off guard with that. He shrugged.

"Whatever you say, Relena Dorlain."

I wasn't impressed either. It was easy as pie to find out my name. Hell, it was written in various ways on the stalls in both the boys and girls' bathrooms. I crossed my arms. "Get the hell out," I said it in a way that suggested he should've known that was what he was supposed to do.

And he did. He left. 

As I was driving down the highway that night, I realized just how much I _didn't_ want him to leave. I wanted him to stay and exchange more barbs with me. I wanted to inspect every inch of his shabby Goodwill clothes and scraggly hair. I wanted him to spend more time looking at me. Maybe then he'd recognize that we had . . . something going on between us. I wanted to see him again. I wanted his attention; he certainly had mine. I wanted it any way I could get it. My revelation hindered my driving and I stopped the car on an overpass. Getting out, I ran to the railing and couldn't resist splaying my arms wide. "Heeeeeeeroooooo! Come and carjack me!"


End file.
